


Where The Light Fractured, I Found Home

by SpaceGoat



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5, Far Cry: New Dawn
Genre: Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Far Cry Fanzine 2020, Friendship, Gen, Hobbies, Hopeful Ending, Knitting, Literal Rainbows and Happiness, Scarves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:48:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25016500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceGoat/pseuds/SpaceGoat
Summary: Carmina wasn't sure that she needed a new hobby. What she was sure of, is that it takes a special kind of friendship for a rainbow to fall from the sky.Written for the Far Cry Fanzine 2020 - 'Tales From The Bunker'!
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7
Collections: Far Cry Fanzine 2020





	Where The Light Fractured, I Found Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> Well... WOW. When I threw out a post on Tumblr three months ago, suggesting that we do a lockdown fanzine, I had no idea how it would turn out. Now, here we are, 32 stories and 35 illustrations later, and it really is a testament to how talented everyone who got involved truly are!
> 
> For anyone who wants a free copy of the fanzine, it can be downloaded here:  
> https://www.dropbox.com/s/jqgp9zdbbc4o6i1/Far%20Cry%205%20Fanzine.pdf?dl=0
> 
> Anyway, here is my little contribution! I decided to write about my fave girl, and had some wonderful art accompanying it by celiansartblog on Tumblr - please do go and check out their work!
> 
> Please enjoy, and please check out the zine! You can also find several of the stories in the Far Cry Fanzine 2020 collection on here!

_“Girlie, you need t’get yourself a hobby that don’t involve somethin’ dead at the end of it!”_

_That was rich coming from a gun-toting septuagenarian who could sneeze mid-shot and still snipe a guy’s ear clean off._

_“I have hobbies, Nana!” Carmina had laughed back at her._

_“Not like this, you don’t!”_

Now, sitting with their legs dangling out of the Perch, Carmina and Nana relaxed in the bright, sun-warmed afternoon glow. A mountain of rainbow yarn sat upon their laps, tinged violet by the somehow still flashing _Spread Eagle_ sign.

Fire truck red and saffron yellow, was knotted and twirled between hydrangea blue, woven and twisted amongst rainforest green and a purple not quite the colour of yams, not quite the colour of eggplant. Heaped like psychedelic Himalayas, _snikt_ and _persnikt_ between two sets of needles. The fibres were near weightless, clouds beneath their fingertips, almost unlike anything Carmina had felt before. In fact, it was a stark reminder of how razor sharp the world around her was. Rusted and wind-beaten. _Unstitched_.

Between them, slowly winding its way to the ground, was the fruits of their labour.

A scarf.

So kaleidoscopic, it appeared the sunlight had fractured without any rain.

Despite her skepticism, (and her, admittedly, half-hearted attempts to confine herself to the garage instead) Carmina had found an unexpected gratification in the art of knitting. An intrinsic sense of joy in holding something that, usually, she’d impale right through an eye socket, only this time to find it be cushioned, _caressed_ by soft wool. She’d diligently practised all the stitches in the book. Garter and stockinette, fisherman’s rib and the basket stitch.

Her sulking had waned even further when the two of them, some 60 years apart in age but soon thick as thieves, had snorted at, mocked and downright _abused_ the unfortunately named ‘Seed’ stitch. And the week where they’d set to working on the _waffle_ stitch, had been laden with misshapen homemade waffles. Buttery and rich. Laced with lashings of oozing maple syrup from a bottle Carmina had found in the rubble of a diner once named ‘Aubrey’s’.

“You know, Nana,” Carmina purled a final violet stitch, and passed it to her companion to begin another row, “I’m really grateful you talked me into this.”

“Don’t you be worryin’ about it, girlie. Keepin’ this kooky ol’ gunslinger company.”

_Truth is, Nana, I was lonely too. More than I’d ever admit, even to Mom and Dad. How can the world feel so echoey and vast, when everywhere I look, there’s people I love?_

_I suppose she saw right through me._

_Having no memories must be the loneliest feeling in the world._

“Even gunslingers need friends. Butch Cassidy had the Sundance Kid, right?” 

“Right y’are!”

 _Snikt_ and _persnikt_ again, as the two worked in comfortable silence. Sometimes they gossiped, letting their laughter fill the valley and join with the birdsong and distant gunfire. But most days, it was just the pleasure of each other’s company. Two friends, passing a lazy afternoon in rare stillness and peace.

“Another stack of pancakes says we’re gonna finish this today.”

“Hoo-hoo, wager not taken, buster! I see whatcha doin’, and I never take a wager I can’t win!”

They giggled, in full certainty that there’d be sweet treats anyway. 

“What do you think we should make next?”

Nana gazed at her sternly through jam-jar lenses. Carmina had never known any of her grandparents, but she imagined that this is how they would have stared her down had she misbehaved. 

“You gotta noggin’ full o’ yarn if you think I’m gonna answer that, missie! You gotta brain, start usin’ it!”

A flurry of thoughts, snowfall in summer. _Mittens, striped like candy, a gift from Santa for the little ones. A blanket for Blade Drubman’s crib - he’s been having trouble sleeping, the gears of the world grinding, deafening, around him. Pouches for screws and bolts, pockets for wrenches and screwdrivers. Or something for Dad to put in the plane… a Maneki-neko to sit on the dashboard for good fortune?_

“How about knitting my co-pilot a good luck charm?”

Murmured agreements, and they once again settled back into their silence. It wasn’t long before their work neared its end, as the yarn ran low. Threads of life, weaving into the fabric of the world. Not gone… just _renewed_.

“Makes a change to the o’l heart, doesnit? Buildin’ something, ‘stead of tearin’ the whole world down. One day, missie, y’gonna be incharga buildin’ this valley up again,” Nana’s steady hands, sculpted by bloodshed, by love and by time, bound-off the final stitch. And carefully, she gathered up the scarf from where it dangled down between them. “I reckon you oughta be lookin’ real swish when y’do it!”

She held it out in offering. 

Teenage eyes so earnest, and bright with a humble soul widened in disbelief.

“For _me_?”

“You earned it, kiddo!”

As though she were cradling a newborn babe, Carmina took hold of her gift, letting it rest gently in her arms. And she whispered a silent _thank you._ In the hush of the valley, she could almost hear it carry on the breeze, cast out to all the lucky stars across the cosmos, honouring the sky and it’s kindness, for it had given her so many gifts. The cloudless vista under which she sat, each day anew with promise and life. The rainbow had shed a skin for her, one that she held close to her now. 

And the sunshine itself, that shone eternally in her _Nana_.

“You young’uns gotta build,” The old woman’s voice was far gentler than usual. An uncharacteristic weariness sat nestled between words and breath. Yet… there was _hope_. “An’ you gotta do a better job than we ever did.”

The child of the new world nodded. She wrapped the scarf around her neck, letting her hair tangle and tuck into its folds. _Cosy_. Cocooned in the warmth of dedication and patience. Distinctly smelling of home. Each lump and bump beneath her fingers was a tangible shrine to every precious moment they had spent stitching it together. 

Feeling it embrace her, Carmina Rye’s eyes teared in the corners, glistening with pride.

And she smiled:

“Seems like we made a good start.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I had a lovely time writing it (nice not to write angst and drama for once lmao) and I hope you had fun with these fab girls! Also dropping another cheeky little link for the zine - it's totally free to download, all 127 pages of it!
> 
> https://www.dropbox.com/s/jqgp9zdbbc4o6i1/Far%20Cry%205%20Fanzine.pdf?dl=0


End file.
